


Words

by orphan_account



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Ficlet, Hobbits, M/M, Male Protagonist, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-04
Updated: 2003-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Old fic, but I remember it was for Dana.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic, but I remember it was for Dana.

It felt odd. Odd that they'd arrived to this moment. But it felt right as well, though Pippin felt like they should keep it secret, keep it hidden, here in the blue-black-white world of slanting moonbeams and black oceans of shadow. Sunlight might not understand. Sunlight would ask questions Pippin didn't even want to voice, because a sentence assumes a hundred things it doesn't directly say; sentences make things something they necessarily are not.

And Pippin's language skills were currently stoppered; he pushed the stopper in deeper. Keep it out. Keep it all out until I'm sure.

Even 'until I'm sure' seemed like too much of a sentence to think.

But it did feel right.

Pippin sank down on Merry. Their skins were damp and sticky with sweat. Merry reached a hand over Pippin's back instinctively, like he had always done, only they'd never been naked and sweaty like this before. Oh - a memory landed suddenly on Pippin: a bright summer day, sky blue and almost cloudless, stretching over a field of yellow corn, Fatty grinning at them and Merry's laugh in his ear as he was pulled in a hug, and he was laughing too, and no-one had a shirt on under the relentless sun - the rough wood of the stake under his hand --

It felt almost like that had happened to someone else. And it had, in a way. The Pippin then felt like a could-have-been-me to the Pippin now. And that was odd too. It should be the other way around.

Pippin thought he thought too much. With a sigh he gave the stopper another reassuring push, closed his eyes, and lay his head on Merry's shoulder.

Merry couldn't speak. He felt certain his tongue would fall off if he so much as tried to form a coherent word.

He knew he loved Pippin, loved him like the Shire, like earth, more than riches or his own happiness.

Words were jostling around his brain, trying to organise themselves. He'd held them back, built a good strong dam for years, so only a few words fell through sometimes. He'd known the dam was there, but known also that it was secure. Until now, of course.

He stroked Pippin's hair slowly, just once, not wanting to disturb him from what seemed to be a half-finished journey to sleep. ...He knew... sentences could not...

Surprise. Ease. Silent. Right. Comfort. Different. Unthinking. Precipice.

Falling.

They'd have to hit the ground sometime. Merry returned his hand to Pippin's hair, and tweaked his ear gently. Pippin responded with a sleepy mumble. Merry called his name softly.

"Mrrp?"

"I..."

He paused for a long time. Pippin woke up more and raised himself on one elbow, the other hand on Merry's chest. It was too dark to see his expression, but when Pippin spoke, the voice was sleepy, though not irritated. "What is it?"

Merry swallowed. The sentence had fled from his mind, leaving him mute once again. Pippin laughed, and kissed him, full and sweet, as if they'd been doing it their whole lives.

"Your articulation improves every day, Merry dear," he said as he withdrew. "I'll have to start translating your mumbles to the rest of the world in a few years." He snuggled up close again, pulling Merry to him so their heads were close together. "Now go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

And sunlight did bring back words and sentences. It brought back clothes and breakfasts and books and gravel under their feet as well, but somehow they wove kisses into all that, too, and those seemed to contain all the words they needed.


End file.
